


From Dream to Reality

by Laura_trekkie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_trekkie/pseuds/Laura_trekkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes dreams do come true… it just takes a close shave with the Wraith in an Ancient outpost on an abandoned planet.  Evan thinks it’s worth it, though.  First time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Dream to Reality

**Author's Note:**

> So, I fail utterly. This should have been one of five stories written for [Ancient City Bingo](http://ancientctybingo.livejournal.com/), which should have been submitted by October 31st 2012. This is, in fact, only the second fic I managed in a whole year! It seems I am not cut out for writing to a one-word prompt, as I stared and stared at my grid of 25 words with a mind gone completely blank and then dithered over the two fics I did manage. This one was written for the ‘destination’ square, by the way.
> 
> Oh well, it’s fic, so that’s good in the end, right? Other people did not fail, so you should all head on over there to check out the excellent fic and art.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own any recognisable characters or locations and I make no money from this fanfiction. I do, however, own the story idea.

**From Dream to Reality**

Evan groaned as John brushed three fingers over his prostate one last time, before replacing them with his cock. They exchanged a heated kiss as John paused to give Evan time to adjust.

“Move!” Evan demanded, when they broke apart for much-needed oxygen. John was clearly happy to oblige, as he set up a slow, deep rhythm, obviously designed to send Evan completely insane with pleasure.

Evan dragged his fingernails down John’s shoulder blades, earning a hiss and an increase in the tempo of John’s thrusts. They kissed again, if it could be called that, all tongue and teeth and harsh breaths. He was close and, judging by the noises John was making, he wasn’t alone.

His neglected cock screamed for attention and Evan wasn’t about to refuse, reaching down to palm himself and stroke in time to John’s increasingly erratic thrusts, which were hitting his prostate pretty much every time.

One last, particularly hard, thrust had Evan screaming out John’s name and coming hard all over his hand and their stomachs. John made a noise… that sounded strangely like his alarm.

Evan’s eyes snapped open, but it took him a second or two before he could process the fact that he was alone in his bed, hand around his dick and a tell-tale wet spot on the sheets. He let his head drop back to the pillow with a groan, ‘Damnit, this is getting out of hand!’ he thought. His dreams had featured John Sheppard more and more often over the past few months and each one was a little more intense than the last. So far he’d managed to keep it out of the office, but he worried that if things carried on, he’d start finding it difficult to be near Sheppard without giving his feelings away.

His alarm was still blaring, so he forced himself up, switching it off on his way to the shower. He stood under the water for a few minutes before soaping up; trying to make sure he didn’t look like he’d just had another wet dream about his CO. He had a briefing with Sheppard and his team in half an hour and he didn’t think he could face Teyla and Ronon giving him knowing looks. In fact, he wouldn’t put it past Dex to somehow smell sex on him. He lathered up again, horrified by the thought.

Deeming himself as clean as he could get, Evan dried and dressed quickly, feeling better able to face the day once he was in his familiar, comfortable uniform. He grabbed a coffee and sort-of croissant in the mess, then made his way to the briefing room, not surprised that he was the first one there.

He wasn’t alone for long, as the rest of his team wandered in a few minutes later, Mark Whitman spinning some tall tale, while Rick Wise and Daniel Hadad hung off his every word. Everyone knew the big Marine made up most of his feats of heroism and embellished the rest, but there was no denying that he had the gift of engaging his audience.

Whitman broke off his story when he saw Lorne. “I might’ve known teacher’s pet would’ve been here early,” he teased.

“Don’t go counting yourself as one of the cool kids, Whitman, you’re only a few minutes later than me and, you might’ve noticed, the teacher’s not here yet,” Lorne pointed out with a grin.

“Damnit. And I so wanted to be one of the cool kids.”

“Face it; you’re never going to out-cool Sheppard and Dex, not with Sheppard’s knack of sliding in at the last second.” Evan often marvelled at John’s ability to time his team’s arrival to the nanosecond before they’d be considered late, no matter what project they’d had to prise McKay away from.

Sam Carter’s arrival in the room curtailed anymore chatter. She had only been in the post for a few months and most of the military personnel still had to feel her command style out. Sheppard joined in with the teasing, so most of the men were comfortable back-chatting and big-talking with him during down time, but Carter was still a mystery and her legendary exploits with SG-1 made her seem a little unapproachable, no matter the open smile she gave Lorne and his guys when she saw them.

Not more than two minutes later, John and co. arrived, heralded by the sound of McKay complaining about something. John was rolling his eyes and grinning as he strolled in and took his seat, nodding to everyone already assembled. Evan didn’t stare at John’s smiling mouth. He didn’t.

Greetings were quickly exchanged and Carter brought the briefing to order. “As some of you will be aware, we’ve had word from a source that there’s Ancient tech on a planet known as Xanti, designated in our database as P675-098.” She hit a button on her tablet and the large screen lit up to show part of a solar system with the planet highlighted.

“We’ve used long-range sensors to establish that there are some interesting, potentially Ancient, readings on that planet and Colonel Sheppard’s team will be investigating. However, we’ve also detected a Wraith hive in the system,” a red dot started blinking on the display, “so, Lorne, your team will also be going to P675 to keep watch in case the gate activation gets the Wraith’s attention.” Sam gave everyone present a serious look and finished up by saying, “If the Wraith show up, get out as quickly as you can. This is an uninhabited planet, so there’s no reason for heroics.” Evan didn’t think he imagined the extra hard look Carter sent Sheppard and Dex, who both looked innocently back.

“Oh no, no reason to maybe keep the Wraith from getting into a new Ancient facility with who knows what technology and weapons inside,” McKay complained.

“You can’t investigate if you’re dead, Rodney,” Carter retorted, effectively stopping his argument cold and earning a smirk from John, which quickly turned to a pout when McKay elbowed him in the ribs.

Luckily, Carter closed the briefing before John could do anything to escalate the childish behaviour and the two teams were quickly on their way to gear up.

They were walking through the gate, much to McKay’s annoyance, but the readings weren’t far away and they didn’t want to risk attracting the Wraith by using a jumper. So, the two teams were soon standing in the gate room, just outside the fatal splash zone, while Chuck dialled the planet.

A little thrill shivered down Evan’s spine - the excitement he always felt stepping through the gate to another alien planet and unknown situation. He followed John, carefully not watching his ass as it disappeared into the wormhole.

~*~

Sheppard stepped through the gate, McKay and Teyla to his left, Ronon on point and Lorne’s team on his six. As always, he was on high alert; just because the MALP showed no immediate danger didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He noted with the usual flash of exasperation that instead of having his eyes on their surroundings like everyone else, Rodney’s gaze was locked on his readings.

Given 1) his friend’s personality, 2) the amount of times they’d walked through the gate into a fight and 3) the fact they were stepping into Wraith territory, it amazed John that Rodney was so relaxed. He supposed it showed how much Rodney trusted his team to look after him, no matter what he often, and loudly, had to say on the matter.

Satisfied they were safe for now, John lowered his gun, but left the safety off. "Ok, Lorne, perimeter; Ronon, Teyla, scout ahead. We'll catch up once Rodney’s sent the MALP home." It was a risk to activate the gate again with the Wraith nearby, but the MALP was an expensive bit of kit, not easily replaced, and John didn’t need the paperwork. Nor did he want their tech getting into the wrong hands, which the Wraith definitely were.

Everyone hopped to it and John and McKay caught up to Teyla and Ronon a few minutes later. It was only another five minutes of walking through the ubiquitous lightly wooded, gently rolling countryside they seemed to find on most planets they visited to the source of the Ancient energy readings; not enough time for Rodney to complain about the walking… much.

Soon the team reached their destination - a large grass-covered hill, not as big as Atlantis, but certainly big enough to hide a decent sized outpost. "Which way to the door, McKay?" Ronon asked, beating John by a second.

Rodney consulted his read-outs and led them a few metres to the right. They stopped at a weed-covered archway and Ronon quickly dispatched the overgrowth with a large knife he produced from somewhere in his long coat. Once it was clear, Rodney stepped forwards and passed his hand over the sensor, but nothing happened.

"Huh, that’s odd," he muttered, consulting his pad.

"What’s odd?" John asked.

"It’s got power, but won’t unlock. See if it likes your magic gene better," Rodney replied.

John stepped up, knowing that some of the older or more sensitive systems didn’t recognise the artificial ATA gene, much to Rodney’s annoyance. He put his hand to the sensor and felt an odd tingle as the lock released and the door opened. He pulled his hand away and frowned at his palm. There wasn’t usually any physical sensation when he used his gene, just a mental 'feeling' of a change in the energy flow.

"John, are you alright?" Teyla asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Yeah, I’m fine; it must be malfunctioning, or an older system than Atlantis, because it made my hand feel a little tingly."

"'A little tingly,' that’s a very technical description," Rodney scoffed, even as he snapped a diagnostic cable onto the lock and entered a series of commands into his pad.

"What? I thought 'tingly' was pretty descriptive, right guys?" John said, appealing to Ronon and Teyla, who both wisely declined to answer. John pouted, but turned when Rodney made a small annoyed sound and disconnected his pad.

“The systems all read as optimal, it must’ve been a momentary power surge thanks to the place being dormant for the last few centuries. I’ve set my pad to alert me to anymore fluctuations."

John nodded and reached for his radio, "Sheppard to Lorne, do you copy?"

"Lorne here, Sir," came the response.

"We’re heading into the outpost now."

"Roger that. Everything’s clear here."

"Copy that, Major. Hourly check ins. Sheppard out." Check in complete, John turned to his team; "Ronon, you take point," he said, gesturing for McKay and Teyla to follow the big Satedan, before bringing up the rear. He felt the same slight tingle run through him as he passed the threshold and the door slid shut behind him, but a quick glance Rodney’s way showed him that there’d been no surge alert on his pad, so he shrugged it off and looked around.

He kept his weapon ready - they’d been surprised too many times in supposedly abandoned places - as he looked along a corridor with familiar angles and stained glass motifs and doorways along both sides. It curved round to the right and John could see another corridor branching off to the left at the apex of the curve. He could also see the markings on the walls which indicated where the quarantine force fields were, which made him think they were in a research outpost.

There were five doors on the outer wall and three on the inner, all concealing potential dangers that needed to be checked before the team could move on. John assigned Ronon and Teyla the longer wall, knowing they would be quick and efficient, where Rodney would bitch and moan about wasting time here when the energy source was in such and such a direction.

Even after so many years, he hadn’t grasped the danger of leaving an unchecked room behind them, a fact which had John shaking his head in exasperation. They cleared their rooms with a minimum of bitching, but still arrived at the intersection after their teammates.

“All clear,” Ronon reported, “looked like single occupancy offices.”

“Yeah, that’s what we found, too,” John said. He pinched the bridge of his nose; one of those right-behind-the-eyes headaches had sprung up.

“Are you alright, John?” Teyla asked for the second time in ten minutes.

“I’m fine,” he said. Deciding it would go away if he ignored it, John turned his attention to the intersection. The original corridor carried on curving to the right, while the branch curved to the left, leaving him unable to see the end of either. He sighed; these things were never easy. “You got any blueprints on there, McKay?" he asked, gesturing to Rodney’s hand held pad.

"Nothing detailed until I find a working terminal. So far there’s only power for doors and lights. I can tell you that this corridor dead ends in 200 metres," Rodney replied, waving his pad at the branching hallway, “while the main one carries on much further.”

"Ok, let’s clear it, same pairs as before."

Twenty five minutes later, the team had found 20 sets of living quarters just like their own on Atlantis - when those Ancients picked a design, they really stuck to it - and two recreation rooms, all of which were devoid of anything remotely interesting or dangerous.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Rodney groused.

John smirked and rolled his eyes, tuning out the muttering scientist through long practise. He’d learnt it was best to let McKay get it out of his system.

They returned to the main corridor and split up once again to check rooms. The doors were spaced much further apart than before and John realised why when he opened the first one – they’d found the labs.

He was about to enter when Ronon spoke from where he stood on the opposite side of the corridor, "Door won’t open."

John frowned. "Try the next one," he instructed. Teyla moved down the hall and swiped her hand over the control. Nothing. Having an inkling about the problem, John crossed the floor to Ronon’s door and swiped the sensor.

The door slid open. It seemed the Ancients didn’t mind any old Tom, Dick or Harry rifling their underwear drawers, but no one was getting near their science who didn’t have the gene.

Ronon huffed in amusement, or annoyance - it could go either way with him - then stepped past John, gun at the ready. Teyla inclined her head with a small smile as she followed Ronon and John returned to his own room to find Rodney already inside.

"You’re supposed to wait for back-up, McKay," John chided.

"Ronon didn’t," Rodney retorted, attention on a damaged console.

John raised an eyebrow at that and stared, waiting... 'and three, two, one.'

"Yes, alright, fine, Conon is his own back-up!" Rodney grouched, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, before adding at a more reasonable volume, "Besides, it doesn’t look like I'll get much done without your super-gene anyway."

"It won’t work, huh?" John said, looking at the blackened, burnt out console Rodney stood next to. He wasn’t surprised it hadn’t worked and didn’t imagine any strength of ATA would revive it. He laid his hand on it just to be sure, but didn’t feel the now familiar tingle. “I think it’s dead,” he told Rodney.

Rodney gave him his patented 'Oh my god, I’m surrounded by morons' look and said witheringly, "Yes, thank you for that enlightening observation, Colonel Obvious. This is clearly dead as a dodo. That door is in working order, though, and it wouldn’t open." He pointed over to the nearby wall.

Rather than react to the jibe, John focused on the more important matter; "And why were you trying to open it without back-up?"

A guilty look passed over Rodney’s face, which he tried to cover by spluttering indignantly. John gave him a knowing look. "Don’t give me that eyebrow, Sheppard, just get that door open," he snapped, clearly hoping the best defence was a good offence.

John held the look a moment longer to make his point, then, just to make a different point and poke his friend’s ego a bit, he thought the door open from where he stood half the room away. He ignored the stab of pain behind his left eye and smirked at Rodney’s disgusted muttering.

Disappointingly, the room on the other side turned out to be an empty storeroom.

They joined Ronon and Teyla in the other lab and found another dead computer and empty storeroom behind a door that would only open for John. Deciding it would be pointless to keep the team split if he would have to hop from room to room and leave Rodney alone half the time, John had Teyla and Ronon rejoin him and Rodney and they cleared rooms one at a time.

The next four rooms they checked were repeats of the first - single desk, useless console, one empty storeroom. John’s headache was getting slowly worse and he was getting really tired of the weird tingle that was starting to edge more towards pain than annoyance. They reached the next door and he steeled himself.

Something must’ve shown on his face, because Teyla stopped him with a hand on his outstretched forearm. She assessed him silently for a few moments, this time not bothering to ask whether he was alright, and thus not giving him the chance to avoid it by saying he was fine. He started to squirm. Quelling him with a look, she fished two painkillers out of a pocket in her vest and held them out on the palm of her hand. "Do not argue with me, John Sheppard," she said in her best ‘Leader of the Athosian People’ voice, before he even managed to open his mouth to decline.

A bottle of water appeared in front of his nose and John looked along the leather-clad arm to Ronon’s smirking face. "Oh shut up," John said, snatching the bottle. He downed the pills, then defiantly put the bottle in his own pocket. It was childish, but they were ganging up on him. Ronon bared his teeth in a sharp smile, but didn’t comment.

"If we’re done behaving like children?" Rodney snarked with a pointed look at the still-closed door. John sighed and braced for the pain, opening the door to more of the same.

"Oh, come on!" Rodney exclaimed three rooms later and John had to silently agree; it was about time they found something useful to balance out the headache that wasn’t going away despite the painkillers. They cleared the room and moved on.

Things finally changed with the next door, which opened onto a large room meant for a team of scientists, much like the ones back on Atlantis only without the scientists bustling around.

"Finally!" Rodney exclaimed, before sweeping inside with Ronon close on his tail. John let them go ahead; the headache was starting to wear on him and it was better that Ronon’s always-alert eyes watched Rodney’s back.

Teyla gave him another assessing look, but, thankfully, didn’t say anything. John knew it was only a matter of time though - much to his chagrin, Teyla had learnt how to handle him over the years and bided her time. Grateful for the reprieve, no matter how short, he walked into the room, suppressing a groan when he saw four internal doors.

Rodney was prowling around the work desks, trying to find an undamaged terminal amongst the ten in the room. Ronon was sticking close, so Teyla and John cleared the two store rooms and two offices behind the closed doors.

Nothing. Again. John was getting tired of this and, judging by the muttering when he stepped back into the main room, Rodney had had the same results and shared John’s feelings about it. 

John wondered how many more rooms there were before he could go home- the pills hadn’t helped; if anything, he felt worse. He glanced at his watch; had it really only been 50 minutes? He had to check in with Lorne in 10, hopefully he’d have something to report.

He got the next door open and they trooped in, still alert, but not really expecting anything by  
this time. He watched Rodney make a beeline for the consoles and was startled when he heard a shout of triumph rather than the irate muttering he was used to. The team gathered round, watching as Rodney touched various controls and consulted his pad. "It’s got power," he said, "but it won’t initialise. Do your stuff, Sheppard."

John took a deep breath. Hopefully this terminal would give Rodney what he needed and they could leave. He pressed his hand to the smooth surface and was overwhelmed by the pain that hit. It felt like a white hot poker stabbing into his brain. He cried out and his knees buckled. He was only vaguely aware of a strong arm catching him round the waist and pulling him back against a broad chest. 'Ronon,' his brain supplied groggily. He opened eyes he didn’t realise he’d shut, only to find he couldn’t see. Adrenaline shot through him, chasing away the unconsciousness that had been tugging at the edges of his mind.

He must’ve said something, because the arm around his waist tightened enough that he felt the vibrations against his back when Ronon reassured, "Easy, Sheppard, the lights are out."

The words calmed John enough that he saw the truth in the soft glow of the console. Then Teyla switched her torch on and John realised he had black spots dancing in front of his eyes. His head was in agony, he felt dizzy and his legs seemed in no hurry to support him, but the team was his responsibility, so he croaked, "what the hell happened?"

"Don’t know yet, the computer’s locked me out," Rodney said absently, already fishing tools out of his pack. A moment later, he vanished under the console.

Teyla looked John’s way, but Ronon said, "I got him, you help McKay." Teyla nodded and crouched to add her light to Rodney’s. 

"How you doing, Sheppard?" Ronon asked.

"Fine," he replied automatically.

"Uh huh, I'll just let you go then, shall I?" Ronon said, sounding unimpressed.

John felt the supporting arm start to loosen and quickly grabbed hold, not wanting to end up in a heap at Ronon’s feet. "Bastard!" he said without heat.

Ronon chuckled but tightened his hold. "Want to try that again?"

John sighed, then admitted, "I’ve got the headache to end all headaches and I think I need to sit down, because I’m dizzy as hell."

If he hadn’t felt so bad, John would have been embarrassed by the fact that Ronon all but carried him to the stool next to the console Rodney was working on, but as it was, he was just grateful it had a back rest, because he was pretty sure he would have ended up on the floor otherwise.

“So, what the hell happened?” he asked again, after listening to Rodney’s muttering for a few minutes. The pain and dizziness had lessened a little, allowing him to focus on the bigger picture.

Rodney ignored him, cursing one last time, then standing up and hitting a few buttons on the console. The lights slowly came on, though only about half as bright as they had been originally.

“The short answer is the Wraith happened,” he replied belatedly, face grim.

‘That doesn’t sound good,’ John thought. “What’s the long answer?” he reluctantly asked.

“The long answer is that I’ve found Wraith code piggy-backed on the Ancient. It looks like it was designed to put this place into lockdown. As far as I can tell, all the doors are locked and the quarantine force fields are all on.”

“Probably why all the consoles were destroyed before this one – the Wraith wanted their prey stuck well inside the building so there’s less chance of escaping before they can arrive to cull them,” Ronon said bitterly. “There’s probably a signal broadcasting right now,” he added.

‘That’s definitely not good, Lorne and his team are sitting ducks!’ John thought. It was, however, enough to galvanize him; the need to protect his people allowing him to push away some of the pain and think.

“McKay, find that signal and stop it,” he said, before turning has attention to his radio. “Lorne, this is Sheppard, come in.”

“Lorne here, sir.” 

“We’ve triggered some sort of Wraith trap, which is probably broadcasting a signal, so keep your eyes open,” he warned.

“It’s all clear so far, sir, but we’ll stay alert. What’s your situation? Do you need assistance?”

John closed his eyes, briefly, against a wave of pain. Would Lorne be affected the same way if he got too close? John didn’t like the thought of Lorne in pain. He didn’t like the thought of any of his people in pain, but he’d started to put Evan Lorne a little higher up the scale recently, much more worried about his 2IC than was strictly professional.

Realising he’d not answered the question and that his team was watching him with concern, John sucked it up and replied. “The whole place is in lockdown, but none of us are injured-“

“That is not strictly true, John,” Teyla said, loudly enough that Lorne would catch it. John scowled at her.

“I’m not injured,” he said, for Lorne’s benefit, trying to convince himself that he didn’t hear a whiny tone in his voice, then explained what the Wraith code was doing to him.

“It’s probably best if you stay away from the complex. McKay’s doing his thing, trying to track down the signal and stop it, then he can get to work on the exits. Let Atlantis know what’s going on, maybe Zelenka can look through the database for any useful information.”

“Roger that, sir. I’ll let Colonel Carter know what’s goi-“ Lorne cut off mid-word, just as another voice carried over the radio channel.

“Sir! Incoming wormhole!”

John’s heart leapt into his mouth. It wasn’t time for their scheduled check in with Atlantis, which meant it was likely the Wraith arriving.

Lorne’s voice came back on the line a second later and confirmed John’s worst fears. He hated being unable to help his people when they were in trouble and the fact that Lorne was out there filled him with dread.

“Sir, we’ve got darts coming through!”

John tried to convince himself that darts weren’t too much to worry about, as long as his men stuck to the trees. He’d almost convinced himself that everything would be fine when Evan’s voice came over the radio again.

“There are drones coming through now and they seem to be holding the gate open – nothing else is coming through, but it’s not shut down.”

‘Damn it! That means there’s no back-up coming for at least 38 minutes,’ John thought, before saying aloud, “Lorne, fall back, find cover! Pull back to the complex, I’ll get McKay working on the door.”

‘So much for keeping Lorne away from the Wraith code-induced headaches,’ John thought, but a headache was better than being culled.

~*~

Lorne felt concern as he listened to John relate what was going on with him, but he ruthlessly squashed it; now was not the time to be worrying about John, who didn’t seem to be in immediate danger, when there was a possible Wraith attack imminent!

His team were all close enough to hear Sheppard’s report, so he didn’t have to waste any time briefing them, which turned out to be a good thing, as Hadad yelled, "Sir! Incoming wormhole!"

Moments later three darts shot through and started a search pattern. Lorne’s team were stationed just inside the tree line, because the Wraith had always been a possibility. It wasn’t ideal - the trees were close enough that the darts couldn’t fit, but the canopy was patchy. Still, things probably would have been ok if they’d been able to just hide in the trees until the darts left, but Evan was aware that the gate hadn’t shut down and was dismayed, but not surprised, when eight of the big drones walked through.

The tree cover wouldn’t offer any protection against them. "Damnit," he muttered, then relayed the situation to Sheppard, not surprised when they were ordered to pull back to the complex. It may not be good for gene-carriers’ health, but it was better than becoming a Wraith snack.

Putting actions to words, Lorne and his team melted into the wood, using the sparse cover as best they could, trying to remain unseen for as long as possible. Evan estimated they’d made it half way before the first stun beam whizzed passed.

With the element of surprise lost, Evan and his team had to slow down, leap-frogging in pairs, one lot laying down cover fire, while the other pair moved. They made it within sight of the doorway when a Wraith finally hit its mark.

Luckily, as much as the situation could be called lucky, it was Wise who went down; the smallest of the team and easily carried by Whitman, who could give Ronon a run for his money. Hadad got his own back by taking out the offending Wraith, but they were still outnumbered and now effectively down to two men.

Then the trees ran out.

Evan estimated it was 10 metres to the door. Never had such a short distance seemed so far. It would take a matter of seconds to cross, but the darts were overhead. With the drones catching up, Evan made a quick plan.

"Right, we all go on three. Hadad, you concentrate on the drones, I’ve got the darts, Whitman, get Wise to the door asap and get ready to blow it if we don’t hear from McKay in the next few seconds.” He waited for the nods of understanding, gave the three count, and burst out of the trees.

He immediately started firing at the nearest dart, aware of Hadad’s P90 firing behind him. He kept firing until his bullets hit something vital and the dart plummeted from the sky in a trail of smoke. Evan felt a brief surge of satisfaction, tempered by the fact that they were in no way out of danger. Fortunately, the fallen dart was blocking some of the advancing drones and Hadad had managed to take out another one, but again, though the odds were better, they were still against Evan and his team, and now came the hard part.

He stopped, shoulder to shoulder with Hadad, a few metres away from the door, covering Whitman as he rigged the explosive charge. Evan felt like a sitting duck standing in the open like that, even with the hail of bullets spitting from his and Hadad’s weapons. He was far too conscious of the dwindling number of rounds in the magazine and the precious seconds it would take to reload.

What seemed like an eternity later, he felt Whitman at his back and braced for the explosion. It came a few seconds later, shoving him forward a step. Shaped charges were wonderful things, directing most of the blast towards the door where it was needed, but they were standing at the absolute minimum safety distance.

The cloud of dust and smoke gave them some much needed cover, though, as Evan and Hadad backed towards the new doorway behind Whitman. Still, it didn’t all go their way; another Wraith stun blast found its mark and Lorne swore as he grabbed the stumbling Whitman by his vest and dragged him through the door, firing wildly, one handed.

Lorne spared a moment to check on Whitman and found him on his knees, but still conscious, Wise lying in a crumpled heap beside him. "Mark, you ok?" he called, already turning back to fire a burst out the doorway.

"Just a bit dizzy; Rick took most of the blast, poor bastard. He’s gonna have one hell of a headache when he wakes up."

Satisfied, Evan turned his attention to the Wraith. They were advancing quickly, but Whitman joined the fray, crouching by Evan’s feet. Using the time gained by Mark’s virtually full magazine, Evan replaced the depleted cartridge in his own P90, then contacted Sheppard. "Lorne to Sheppard. We’re in, Wise is down and the Wraith are advancing. Any news on the force fields?"

"McKay’s working on it, Lorne. You need to hang on for a few more minutes," came the response.

Lorne could tell by the timbre of John’s voice that he was in pain. It was subtle and Evan didn’t think many people would be able to hear it, but he had made a study of all John Sheppard’s little nuances. It made Evan realise he was clenching his jaw against his own building headache.

He glanced outside; the Wraith were much closer and the remaining two darts had landed, adding two more stunners to their arsenal. On the plus side, they were now near enough that grenades would be effective, as proved by Hadad leaning round his side of the door jamb and lobbing one into the approaching drones, blowing one to gruesome pieces and taking another two down, narrowly avoiding a stun blast for his efforts.

The remaining Wraith just kept on coming, though, so Evan threw his own grenade, dropping another two. Unfortunately, one of Hadad’s casualties was already stirring. Evan wasn’t  
too concerned, as they’d brought two grenades each, along with extra ammo, just in case.

The feeling held for all of six seconds, then Whitman, who seemed to be pretty much recovered from his stunner graze, said, "Major, 3 o’clock."

Looking to his right, Evan’s heart sank at the sight of a fresh wave of Wraith emerging from the tree line. Suddenly those six remaining grenades didn’t seem quite so reassuring. "Damnit!" he swore, adding silently, 'now would be good, McKay.'

He and Whitman sent another burst of their P90s Wraith-wards, while Hadad reloaded. For what seemed like hours, but was probably only two or three minutes, the three men did everything they could to keep the Wraith at bay, but the drones drew inexorably nearer, simply stepping over their fallen comrades.

Then came the message Evan had been waiting to hear- McKay had dropped the force fields. "Roger that; we’re pulling back now," Lorne responded, while giving his team a series of hand commands.

After nods of understanding, Whitman and Hadad both threw a grenade and moved to grab Wise before the explosions even started. Evan laid down a spray of covering fire as Wise was unceremoniously dragged along the floor by the shoulders of his tac vest, trying to give them a head start.

"Sir, c’mon!" he heard Hadad call out. A glance behind him showed that they had almost reached the force field housing, so he used his last grenade to cover his retreat, keying his radio as he reached the safe zone. A moment later there was a shimmer of light across the corridor and Lorne allowed himself to relax a little. Not completely though, not until he knew for definite that the energy field would keep the Wraith back.

His headache had notched up slightly, but wasn’t unbearable and certainly didn’t stop him from ordering his men to get Wise out of there while he stayed to watch the doorway. Almost immediately Wraith started pouring in, firing their stunners as soon as they saw him. Lorne was a sitting duck if the force field didn’t hold, but the stun blasts were absorbed in a bright flare of colour coruscating across the corridor. Evan let out the breath he wasn’t aware of holding and wasted no time in heading down the corridor after his teammates at a jog.

He found them a minute later, along with Ronon, who led them a little further, into a room whose door had clearly lost a fight with Ronon’s blaster. Teyla immediately went to check on Wise as Evan looked round the room. He saw McKay scowling at the only terminal that seemed to be working, but he only really wanted to see one person and he quickly moved his attention to the man beside McKay.

Sheppard looked pale and the corners of his mouth and eyes were lined with pain, but the biggest clue for Evan that Sheppard was hurting was the fact that he wasn’t trying to hide it - slumping in his seat with a white knuckled grip on the console, like he was afraid he would fall off any moment.

Intent on finding out how John was, he crossed the short distance to his side, but Sheppard, being Sheppard, beat him to it, "How are you holding up, Evan? How’s Wise?"

"Wise is fine. He might be out a little longer, ‘cause he took two stun blasts, but that’s all. My headache is getting worse, but it’s nothing I can’t handle so far. How about you?"

"I’m fine," was the predictable reply.

McKay snorted and said, "Your not fine, Sheppard."

Sheppard sent his friend a narrow-eyed look, "Ok, fine, but I’ve chosen not to dwell on it ‘cause the only way to fix it is to get out of here," the last bit said pointedly. McKay just flapped a hand his way. Evan relaxed a little at the familiar banter, though it seemed a little strained on John’s part.

Nothing much happened for the next few minutes; Evan stayed by John - partly because he looked very unsteady, partly because he wanted to be near the man he... had feelings for - while Ronon, Whitman and Hadad kept watch on the corridor and Teyla removed all Wise’s weapons and extra ammo, both to make him a bit easier to carry and because it made practical sense to have all their weapons in the hands of people who were conscious to use them.

Distantly, he could hear the Wraith bombarding the quarantine field, but other than that it was pretty quiet, so he actually jumped when McKay suddenly gave a triumphant shout.

"Despite the system being pretty fried and this console being dedicated to scientific research, I’ve managed to find some information about the base. The good news is I’ve found a jumper bay and a control room that seems to house a zpm." McKay paused and Evan wondered if, like him, the physicist was waiting for John to interrupt with a comment about that meaning there was bad news, but there was nothing. Now Evan was worried; Sheppard always had a wisecrack ready unless he’d gone into scary protector mode, or was hurting enough that even his high pain threshold couldn’t cope... And John really didn’t look very scary at the moment.

McKay shot a glance John’s way and met Evan’s eyes with a concerned look, before picking up his sentence; "The bad news is that I can’t tell whether there are any jumpers inside, nor can I tell how much charge the zpm has left, but judging by the fact that the lights never regained full power and the big drain from the quarantine fields, I don’t hold out much hope."

"Guess we'd better move then," John said, not looking happy at the prospect. Understandable, considering that Evan had to stop him sliding to the floor when he tried to stand.

"Thanks," John said, steadying himself against the stool. "Ok guys, here’s the plan: Teyla take point; McKay give her directions if she needs them; Ronon, Hadad, take the rear; Whitman, you get to cart Wise out of here - swap with Ronon if he gets too heavy."

He stepped away from the stool and Evan once again caught him as his knees buckled for a second time in as many minutes. "I guess you’re with me," John said sheepishly.

"I guess so, sir," Evan agreed, blandly, pulling one of John’s arms over his shoulder and wrapping his own round John’s waist, grabbing a handful of belt and trying not to be worried by just how much of John’s weight he was supporting. 

~*~

Sheppard leant on Evan more out of necessity than desire, but a small part of his brain was cataloguing the feel of the deceptively strong body pressed up against his side.

They moved towards the hallway and John became aware of the stun blasts from the entrance. “Hey, Rodney? How many quarantine fields did you reactivate?”

“Just the one. Why?”

“Because the Wraith are giving it a real pounding and I’m thinking it might be a good idea to put a back up in place.”

“If I activate another one, it will be a bigger drain on the power,” Rodney cautioned.

“I know, but these fields were never designed to stop prolonged weapons attacks and if this one goes down we’re sitting ducks. The second one will strengthen if the first one falls and the power drain lessens, so it will buy us a bit more time to find the jumpers.” Because John wasn’t going to let himself think about what they would do if they didn’t find a jumper to get them safely home.

Rodney darted back into the room and pressed a few buttons; a moment later the lights dimmed a fraction. The back up force field was in operation. Satisfied that he’d done what he could for now, John allowed his mind to unfocus. Thinking hurt. He was content to follow where Lorne led until the next inevitable crisis reared its ugly head.

As a result, John wasn’t entirely sure how many minutes had passed when the group came to a halt in front of yet another closed door. It couldn’t have been long, because now they knew what the Wraith plan was and the lockdown it entailed, they no longer needed to check each room they passed.

“This is it,” Rodney announced, after consulting his pad for a moment. He stepped forwards and swiped his hand over the door sensor, not looking surprised when nothing happened. He looked over his shoulder at John, who girded his loins, preparing to pull away from Lorne and endure another stab of pain. But Evan’s grip on his wrist tightened and he steered John away from the door to lean with their backs against a wall. At the same moment Rodney frowned, his expressive face looking concerned, and turned back to the door, prising the cover off the lock mechanism.

Giving a frown of his own, John turned to look at Lorne, silently asking for an explanation with a raised eyebrow.

Lorne looked back and whispered, “You look like crap, sir.”

John felt like crap, too, but was glad that Evan had said it quietly enough for only John to have heard. The last thing he needed was Teyla being all concerned again. She was scary when she was concerned and had a way of making John do as he was told like a naughty boy. Best not to give her the opportunity.

Being as close to Evan as he was, John could easily spot that Lorne was also feeling the effects of the Wraith tampering. He had a pinched, washed out look about him.

John felt guilty; Lorne shouldn’t be dragging his carcass around when he felt bad himself. He was about to suggest that Evan hand him over to Ronon, when his 2IC tightened his hold again and said quietly, “Don’t even think about it, sir. We need our most alert people watching our six; it’s much better that we prop each other up and leave Ronon free to kill a few Wraith if necessary.”

It made sense and John didn’t bother trying to come up with an argument. His head hurt and he was enjoying the closeness too much to want it to end just yet. He hated being fussed over when he felt ill, but he did secretly enjoy being held by someone he cared for and this was the closest he was going to get in the current situation. So, he just nodded and settled fully against Evan again, turning to watch Rodney shifting control crystals around in the door lock.

John didn’t hold out much hope of it working, but they hadn’t tried it before now thanks to his own stubbornness in admitting to the pain and the fact that no one knew about the Wraith tampering. Also, Ronon’s blaster was a much more expedient way out! It certainly didn’t hurt to let Rodney try; John wasn’t in any rush to add to his already splitting headache..

Time drifted again until John was roused by Rodney’s triumphant shout and the door swishing open. Ronon darted inside first and gave the all clear, reappearing a moment later to resume his station against the wall, keeping an eye on the corridor they’d come from.

John and Evan shoved off from their wall, staggering slightly before catching their balance and making their mostly-steady way into the room behind most of their teams. Ronon and Hadad stayed outside and Whitman only stayed long enough to deposit Wise against a wall before heading back out for guard duty.

John was immediately hit by the sight of the control chair sitting in the middle of the room. Normally he enjoyed sitting in a chair, getting that closer connection to the Ancient technology - especially on Atlantis – but this time he really hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.

Evan’s grip tightened again and John found himself pulled close to Lorne’s body. He put it down to Evan’s own reaction to seeing the chair, but he allowed himself a moment to imagine that Evan was reacting out of concern for John, wanting to protect him, and not simply because John was his CO.

He shook the pleasant vision away and focused on Rodney, who was standing by the control room’s large bank of crystalline buttons and control interfaces. His friend did not have an encouraging expression on his face and John felt his heart sink.

“How’s it looking, buddy?” he asked, not one for hiding from bad news when he had people in danger.

“Not good,” Rodney admitted. “Whatever Wraith did the meddling was certainly on a par with Todd for knowing how to do the most damage to Ancient systems. This console has power to it, but it won’t recognise me at all and, so far, none of the usual tricks are working to manually engage it. Give me some more time, I’ve got a few more things I can try, but I’ve got a horrible feeling we’ll need the chair.”

John shuddered. He had no objection to letting Rodney try all his tricks out first, as he was in no rush to see what level of pain the chair would bring.

It seemed Evan agreed, because Lorne used the grip he still had on John’s wrist and belt to tug him away from the chair and the console to sit on the floor with their backs against the wall.

John leant his head back and closed his eyes, taking the time to rest. As a consequence, he missed the flickering lights, but he didn’t miss the sudden tensing of the body sitting close enough that their shoulders touched.

“What?” he asked, opening his left eye and rolling his head to look at Lorne, lacking the energy to do anything else.

“The lights just flickered, then got a bit brighter. I think we just lost the first force field.”

“Damnit,” John cursed. It looked like Rodney’s time for improvisation was up. The first force field hadn’t lasted all that long and the Wraith would now have a better idea of where to concentrate their fire, so John wouldn’t be surprised if the second field dropped sooner rather than later.

He watched Teyla stand and move to the doorway, conferring quietly with their teammates in the corridor. John knew there was no real defence possible in the featureless corridor, so they would all have to pull back and cram into the relatively small control room if the Wraith made it through. It wasn’t a position he imagined they could defend for long. They needed to get things moving and quickly, so they could get a jumper and get out.

Evan apparently had the same idea, because he stood and walked over to Rodney. “Lorne, don’t,” John said, “Let me do it.”

“Sorry, sir, but I really don’t think you should touch any more of this stuff,” Evan answered.

John would touch all the consoles on the outpost if it meant Evan didn’t have to and that protective feeling sharpened his voice more than he’d intended when he snapped, “Major, that’s an order.”

Lorne gave him a steady look and replied, “Sorry, sir. You can put me on report when we get home,” before pressing his hand to the computer screen. John watched in pained frustration as Lorne’s eyes squeezed shut and he gasped through gritted teeth. Yeah, John knew what that felt like.

Lorne staggered back and Rodney caught him by the elbow with a concerned look. But Evan only said, “Did it work?”

Rodney fiddled with a few controls, looking hopeful, but then his shoulders slumped and John knew it hadn’t been enough before Rodney said, “The systems are online now and I’ve got limited access, but this console was built to interface with the chair, not act independently. There’s no way round it.”

There was no way John was letting Evan sit in the chair. No way. So he steeled his nerves and made his move while the two men were distracted, pushing himself upright and heading for the chair as quickly as he could. He made it just as Evan’s head snapped up and he shouted, “John, no!”

John didn’t give himself time to dwell on the curious lapse from proper military address to first name, instead sitting down before anyone could stop him.

Just as with Atlantis, the system opened to him, flooding his mind as soon as his hands hit the gel-like patches on the armrests. Unlike Atlantis, however, the connection brought blinding pain and a chaotic assault on his mind.

When John joined with Atlantis like this, he was never quite sure what he would get. When he first sat in the chair, he used to end up in the virtual reality setting where everything looked the same bar the white tunics, but as they’d grown more accustomed to each other, John found that more and more he simply became part of the system, sliding in with no real consciousness of it, seeing things as Atlantis did and communicating what he wanted with mere thoughts, rather than having to ‘physically’ move to a console and key in the commands.

He had also found that familiarity of purpose helped smooth the way. When he interfaced with the city to fly it or use the weapons – things he was familiar with doing – it took no effort at all, but more unfamiliar tasks that Rodney set him to fix this or that took more effort and he would often find himself in the virtual Atlantis, his brain using the familiar surroundings to work out the best course of action.

This time he found himself in a VR setting, customary white outfit in place. But rather than the clean angles and stained glass he associated with the Ancient VR programme, the Wraith influence was obvious. Big patches of the programme simply weren’t there. Big patches of black shot through with flashes and sparks of sickly green light randomly appeared in the floor, walls, ceiling, cutting through the middle of consoles, doorways and stained glass. It was eerie and John made a mental note to steer well clear. Who knew what would happen if he touched one of those Wraith patches?

And it still hurt. His head was pounding and his body felt hollowed out. Taking a deep breath he sucked it up, knowing there was no other option. He needed to find a computer that was intact so he could get the door open to the jumper bay, check the status of the ZPM and eject it if it was worthwhile saving it, and set up a destruct sequence. He knew Rodney would be upset by the loss of another Ancient outpost before he’d had a chance to study it, but John doubted he’d find much with all the corruption the Wraith programme had caused and there was no way he would allow anyone else to interface with the system to extract the data. No, this place had to go, preferably with the Wraith inside it.

Of course, it couldn’t be as easy as just walking to the console. Oh no.

John was standing back at the entrance to the outpost. He likened it to the Ancient version of firewall and password screen; the simulation sending him back to the outermost part of the building and making him work his way back inside, through the levels of security. It used to happen on Atlantis, too, until he’d been accepted as part of the system. Now on the occasions when he opened his eyes to his virtual city, he was always sitting in the chair, right at the heart of the system and able to act quickly.

With a heavy sigh, John prepared to work his way back to the outpost chair as quickly as possible, avoiding the shifting mass of Wraith code as he went.

‘This is gonna be fun,’ he thought with a twist of his lips.

~*~

“John, no!” Evan yelled as he caught sight of John settling into the chair. But it was too late. “God damn you, Colonel!” he muttered, echoing McKay’s more colourful expletives.

Ever practical, Evan dragged his eyes away from John for long enough to check the console and ask McKay whether the idiot’s stupidity was at least working. Not that he used those particular words, of course.

McKay’s hands flew over the controls, which looked brighter and seemed to have more scrolling data than before to his untrained, yet far from stupid, eyes.

“It looks like he’s making progress,” Rodney confirmed, “but it’s taking longer than it should.”

Of course it is, Evan thought cynically.

His attention was snapped back to John, when he heard Teyla call out in alarm. He was horrified to see John having some sort of seizure – back bowed up from the chair, grimace twisting his mouth and obvious twitching and trembling in his limbs - and was moving to pull him out of the chair before his brain even had the thought. He reached out, but was stopped by Rodney’s shout of “No!”

He spun round, angry at the idea of leaving John in such obvious trouble. It must’ve shown on his face, because McKay took a step back, leaving Evan feeling darkly satisfied. “We have to get him out,” he growled.

“Believe me, I’d like nothing more,” Rodney placated, “but we don’t know what it will do to him. We don’t fully understand how the ATA gene interface works, but it has a lot in common with plugging a transformer into an electrical circuit. To all intents and purposes, right now Sheppard is part of the system and you know how they say you should always switch your TV off at the wall before unplugging it? That’s because unplugging a live connection can scramble the electronics and cause an overload. If we pull him out now, he could end up a drooling vegetable.” Rodney said, before delivering the final blow in a quiet, pain-filled voice, “Besides, we need that chair. We pull him out now, he’ll only have to go back in again and he’d be weaker to start with. We can’t get off this planet without the jumper and we can’t get to that jumper without Sheppard. The chairs never respond to you half as well as to him and you’re our next strongest gene.”

Evan bit his lip. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he knew Rodney was right. They were low on ammo and stuck in a dead end with only limited defensive possibilities with only a failing power source keeping a single energy barrier between them and a hoard of Wraith and he never could get the Ancient systems to work as well as John could; even Atlantis, which he had the most contact with.

Still, maybe he could help somehow. A plan formed and he felt a renewed energy.

“Can you patch me in, then? Maybe I can’t work the system as well as the colonel, but maybe I can keep the Wraith code away and let him work.”

Rodney looked thoughtful and Evan could almost see the wheels turning in the scientist’s big brain, but once the frown appeared, he knew he wasn’t going to like the answer. “I don’t see how it could be done, Major. The system was designed for one person, hence the single chair. Adding another person would send conflicting messages and end up causing short circuits. I could maybe jerry-rig something, but not in the time available.”

“I have to at least try,” Evan said, as he watched the man he loved writhing in apparent agony. He couldn’t stand it a moment longer and slammed his hands down onto the hand rests, fitting his fingers between John’s white knuckled claws. He braced himself for the pain, but nothing happened.

“God damnit!” he swore, pulling away and straightening up, fighting a wave of defeat that spread through him.

“Blood,” Teyla muttered out of the blue. Evan was startled, quickly looking at John to see where the blood was, until he registered the tone of Teyla’s voice; more revelation than alarm.

“Rodney, the ATA gene is in the blood, yes?” Teyla asked. At Rodney’s nod she said, “What if John and the major were to share blood? Would that fool the system?”

Energised at the possibility of something to do, some way of helping, Evan waited for Rodney’s reply.

“It might work, but Teyla; we don’t have the right equipment for a blood transfusion.”

Teyla pulled a knife from her boot and said, “I did not mean a blood transfusion, Rodney. How much blood exchange would be required? Would a single cut be enough?”

McKay looked horrified, and faintly green, at the very idea. “Can I just say ‘Ewww’! Have you any idea how unhygienic that is?”

“McKay, no one cares about the hygiene; Keller can fix it when we get home. Now, answer Teyla’s question: how much blood?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Rodney admitted, still looking green. “It’s not something we’ve ever tried before.”

“It’s worth a try now, then,” Evan decided. He looked at Teyla, then at John, trying to work out logistics and ignore the shudders.

Teyla stepped closer and said, “I suggest a cut across the palm.”

It made sense – no need to waste time removing any clothing, plus palms always seemed to bleed a lot, which could only help in this situation. Decision made, Evan spared a moment to think about where to put himself. Standing was no good, as he could easily lose hold of John if he started seizing, too. Sitting on the floor would make things too awkward… which just left straddling John’s lap; awkward for a whole different reason. Still, it was the best way to ensure they’d stay in contact.

“Jesus. Sorry, sir,” he muttered, then stopped wasting time and wedged his knees into the small gaps between chair and John, settling into his CO’s lap in a way so very different to how he’d dreamed it would happen.

Once he was settled, he nodded to Teyla and held his right hand out. She nodded back and quickly drew the sharp knife across his palm. He hissed at the sting and watched as blood started welling from the wound. Teyla, meanwhile, moved her attention to John.

“You must be ready as soon as I make the cut, Major. I do not wish to cause John any further harm by breaking his connection to the system.”

Evan nodded and watched as Teyla quickly lifted John’s hand and cut it. He set his own bleeding hand onto the armrest, palm facing up and Teyla quickly pressed John’s palm to it. Evan waited, but nothing happened. He was just about to call it a failure and pull away, when pain washed slowly through his body. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, toppling forwards and ending up chest to chest with John, his face buried in John’s shoulder.

Not that he was aware of his intimate position in the outside world, as he opened his eyes to find himself at the entrance to the compound. He took in the menacing black patches marring the familiar corridor as he started to walk, knowing where he had to go to find John.

It turned out that John hadn’t made it all the way to the chair room, as Evan discovered when he rounded the final bend and found the colonel collapsed against the wall, hands over his head, rocking very slightly.

Rushing the last few feet, Evan dropped to his knees next to John. “Colonel!”

He got no response, so he reached out and gripped John by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. John flinched, but made no other move to acknowledge Evan. ‘Not good,’ Evan thought, as he peeled John’s hands away from his face to find squeezed shut eyes and a grimace of pain.

“Sir! John!” Evan called, lightly slapping John’s cheek, than trying it again, only harder. Nothing. At a loss, Evan took a moment to think about how to reach John. An idea formed; it was risky, but Evan didn’t have a lot of options.

Taking a steadying breath, Evan cupped John’s face with his hands and leaned in, kissing him gently on the lips. Again nothing, so Evan leaned in and delivered a much less chaste kiss, using his tongue to open lax lips and pushing inside.

He pulled away again, “Come on, John,” he begged, leaning in for what he told himself would be the last time.

And again, nothing happened for a long stretch of seconds, but then, finally, Evan felt faint movement against his mouth. Rejoicing in his mind, Evan continued the kiss, coaxing John back to awareness.

He lost himself in the sensation he’d been dreaming of for months, not noticing when he shifted closer, straddling one of John’s legs, or when John’s hands started moving over his body, or when he started moving his hips, grinding his growing hard on against John’s thigh. Then he shifted that tiny bit closer and was jolted back to awareness by the sensation of John’s hard cock pressing against him.

He pulled back, staring wide eyed at John, whose hazel eyes were dominated by pupil. They stared at each other for several seconds, panting hard. Evan caught John licking his bottom lip out of the corner of his eye and wanted nothing more than to dive back in, but reason reasserted itself and, instead, he gave a little embarrassed cough and said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” John replied, looking turned on and bewildered in equal measure.

“So, I suppose you’ll want an explanation?” Evan stalled.

“It’d be nice, yeah,” John agreed.

“Ok. So, you started seizing in the chair back out in the real world and we couldn’t bring you back, so I came in to find you and help fight off the Wraith code. I found you unresponsive, you didn’t respond when I spoke, or touched you, so I tried kissing, which worked, obviously and we should really get on with saving the day now, sir.” Evan spoke quickly, even as he stood and pulled John to his feet. He hoped that if he said it quickly enough and redirected John’s attention to the danger out in the real world, it would all be fine.

John stared at him a second longer, then nodded and they staggered down the hall like a pair of drunks. The door, of course, didn’t just open and let them in. Oh no, it had to be difficult. But John proved once again that there was a sharp brain under the non-regulation hair and quickly prised the cover off the control crystals and worked a little McKay-style magic.

Once inside, John headed straight for the console, with Evan on his heels. The colonel was listing rather alarmingly and Evan wanted to catch him if necessary. They arrived in one piece, however, and set about their mission.

Evan – no slouch in the brain department himself – went after the jumper bay access, while John looked for the ZPM status.

With a little grin of triumph, Evan found the hidden access and also discovered that luck was with them for once and there was a jumper still in the bay that had enough power to activate the cloak. He informed John, who grinned back.

It didn’t take more than a minute for John to find the ZPM information – 13% power remaining – and hit the command to release it from its housing out in the real world. It wasn’t a lot of power, but it was more than they often found and every little bit helped Atlantis. Evan watched as John entered a few more commands, “Self destruct?”

“Yeah. Hopefully with as many Wraith still inside as possible. How far is it to the jumper bay?”

Realising John wanted to know how much time to give them before the place went up in smoke, Evan replied, “It’s right behind the chair room. I’d say 20 minutes should be more than enough time to get a good distance away without giving the Wraith enough time to realise we’ve gone.”

“Twenty it is, then,” John said and entered the final command.

Job done; it was time to wake up and get out of Dodge. Evan turned to head out of the room, as he’d found that the act of going through a doorway allowed his mind to transition back to the waking world. He waited for John, who seemed to be flagging again, pain lines etched into his face even in this virtual place.

As John drew level, he put a hand on Evan’s shoulder and Lorne turned to look enquiringly. He was met by an extreme close up as John leaned in and took his mouth in a short, hard kiss that left Evan panting for breath.

It was over in moments and then John pulled away, gazing at Evan assessingly for a moment, before nodding to himself and smirking. “Come on, Major, time to wake up,” he said, stepping through the doorway and vanishing.

It took another second for Evan’s brain to reboot, but then he followed after John and woke up to find his face was very close to amused hazel eyes and that he was ever so slightly hard in his CO’s lap. As was John, if he wasn’t very much mistaken. Still, they were on a countdown and two of their friends were right there, so Evan quickly scrambled up and allowed Teyla to fuss over his hand and John’s, giving them time to compose themselves.

Things moved quickly after that. The access to the jumper bay was hidden behind a column, invisible from the main doorway and it didn’t take them long to pile in and get underway.

Because the jumper wasn’t part of the mainframe, it wasn’t infected with the Wraith virus, which meant it recognised Rodney’s gene. This was good, because neither Evan nor John were in any condition to fly them out of there. Instead, they collapsed on one side of the jumper, with Wise deposited next to them, while Teyla headed up to the front with Rodney and Ronon, Whitman and Hadad sat on the opposite side, talking quietly and occasionally making sure their incapacitated teammates weren’t about to fall off the bench.

Evan zoned out, but never lost consciousness, so he was aware when John gave up the fight and passed out, head landing on Evan’s shoulder. It was a nice feeling, so Evan didn’t mind, even if John’s hair was a little tickly.

Things seemed to happen distantly, but Evan knew they cloaked the jumper and waited near the gate for their chance to dial out and he heard the distant boom that meant the outpost had gone up and the Wraith along with it. Eventually the 38 minute window closed and Rodney was ready with Atlantis’ address the second the wormhole collapsed. They passed through, got dragged to medical, where Wise woke up with a migraine and John and Evan had their hands bandaged and were deemed exhausted, but otherwise fine and ordered to rest. Then came a quick debrief, giving Carter the highlights, with a full debrief scheduled for the following morning, once everyone was rested.

And now they’d been home for three hours and Evan was lying restlessly in his bed. Should he wait for John to arrive? Should he go to John’s quarters? Should he pretend it never happened? Because it didn’t really, if he was being technical about it.

He sighed and rolled onto his back, trying to think logically. It may have been a virtual reality, but John knew they would both remember what happened there, so he had to have meant something with that final kiss, right? Only, this was John Sheppard, a man Evan had spent a good deal of time observing, so Evan knew that John wasn’t likely to make the first move now they were home. For a guy as hot as John was, he always seemed surprised that anyone found him attractive and he was probably even now convincing himself that Evan wasn’t really interested.

Well, he could forget that! Suddenly feeling renewed as the butterflies fluttered in his stomach, Evan leapt from his bed and rushed as quickly as was dignified to John’s room. He hesitated a second before activating the door chime. Was he making a big mistake?

‘I have to know one way or the other,’ he thought, knowing he’d regret it if he let things fade away. Without wasting anymore time, he activated the chime and stepped inside as soon as John opened the door.

Evan stopped in the middle of the room and turned to look at John as the other man locked the door. He was barefoot and his hair was damp and even more wild from a recent shower. It made Evan’s mouth water, especially when he saw John’s pupils expand and that tongue poke put to wet the inviting lips.

That was it. That was all Evan could take and he was moving before he realised. John met him halfway and they fell into an almost savage kiss, biting at each other’s mouths, hands gripping hard enough to bruise.

They stripped each other without finesse, only breaking the kiss long enough to get t-shirts out of the way. Oxygen eventually became an issue and Evan moved to kiss and bite along John’s jaw, leaving a bruise on his collarbone that had John moaning in an obscene way. Evan did it again just to make sure and grinned when he got the same result.

John pulled back enough to look into Evan’s eyes as he asked in a husky voice, “What do you want, Evan?”

Shuddering at the sexy sound, Evan flashed back to his dream that morning. “I want you to fuck me so hard I scream,” he said, grinning when John cursed and grabbed the base of his dick hard.

“On the bed,” John demanded and Evan wasted no time in obeying, settling onto his back and stroking himself as he watched John vanish into the bathroom and return a moment later with a tube of lube. Evan was too turned on to wonder how John happened to have a tube of lube on a base where every little thing was requisitioned and the forms seen by a whole host of people.

John quickly settled between Evan’s splayed legs and got down to the business of prepping him. It was frantic and desperate and hot as hell, but Evan didn’t care. They could do slow next time, but right now he was enjoying the burn of the first finger pushing into him.

They were impatient, but John was still careful, working up to three fingers quickly, but thoroughly, making Evan writhe with an occasional hit to his prostate. Evan was still working himself, keeping his movements light enough to stop it all ending too soon, but then John knocked his hand away and replaced it with his mouth and Evan arched up off the bed in shocked pleasure, shouting in ecstasy.

He revelled in the hot, wet sensation and the suction for several seconds, before grabbing hold of John’s hair and pulling him up. “I want to come with you inside me,” he said in a sex-roughened voice.

“Jesus Christ!” John cursed, yanking his fingers free of Evan’s body and lubing his own cock. He pressed the head against Evan, but paused. “Condom,” he panted.

Evan shook his head. They both had enough tests done on them to know they were clean. “Do it,” he demanded. And John did; pushing in in one long, slow glide.

Evan keened at the sensation, so much better than his dream, and wrapped his legs around John’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer. They paused there for a second, panting like they’d just run a marathon and staring into each other’s eyes. John was completely open, letting Evan see the depth of his feelings. Oh yeah, this was definitely not a one time, adrenaline-fuelled, thing. He let his own feelings show and guessed that John understood what neither of them were saying when he saw a little smile form.

Soon enough, though, the desperation crashed back in and John set a punishing pace, thrusting hard into Evan and pulling almost completely out again, before doing it all again, dragging the head of his cock over Evan’s prostate on every thrust.

Evan moaned with each hit, feeling himself spiralling higher and higher. He was so close and he reached down to once again start stroking himself. One of John’s hands joined his and they stroked together, matching their pace to John’s pistoning hips. No way could this last much longer and Evan felt John start to move more erratically after only a minute or so.

He used his free hand to drag John down into an open mouthed kiss as he felt the tell tale sensation at the base of his spine. Three more strokes and Evan was gone, arching up into John with a sharp cry as his release spurted over their joined hands and his stomach.

“Fuck!” John cried, thrusting hard into Evan once, twice more, before his whole body locked tight and Evan felt the heat of John’s own release deep inside him.

John collapsed, still inside Evan, but managing to twist his torso to the side, which Evan appreciated, because John was heavier than he looked and Evan was in dire need of as much air as his lungs could take in.

They lay like that for a long time, breathing slowly evening out and sweat cooling on their skin. John eventually softened enough that he slipped out of Evan’s body with a groan. Evan lazily watched through half-closed eyes as John dragged himself into the bathroom and returned a minute later with a damp cloth, which he used to wipe Evan clean, before unceremoniously dumping it on the floor and settling back on the bed.

He pulled Evan to him until they settled with Evan’s head on John’s shoulder, John’s hand slowly stroking up and down Evan’s back and their legs tangled together.

“Hi,” Evan said, with a grin.

John snorted in amusement and grinned back. “Hi yourself.”

They would probably have to talk about things, but that could wait. Right now all Evan wanted to do was sleep. The stress from the mission, the added bonus of the Wraith code and now a bout of energetic sex was conspiring to drag Evan down into sleep. He didn’t fight it, just snuggled closer to John and planted a light kiss to the hairy chest he was lying on.

The hand not stroking his back moved to grip his forearm and Evan drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

END.


End file.
